


Hera's Grace

by wizardingtributeofhades



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Other, semi graphic deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 20:46:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2082597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wizardingtributeofhades/pseuds/wizardingtributeofhades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orion is happy to finally have the one thing he always wanted, a son and nothing could bring him down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hera's Grace

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I thought about while watching the new movie out Hercules, starring the rock. Nothing to do with the movie really though.

                The moment Orion named his new born son things started to change although he didn't notice. Alexia hated being alone with the baby, could barely hold him for more than a few minutes at a time and cried along with the baby every night. She went to therapy for it, knew what she was feeling was wrong but couldn't stop the hatred that burned in her. Just before Orion was about to board a plane to New York for a business trip she disappeared, didn't show up at home for days, cell phone off and two thousand dollars out of their bank account.

                Twelve days, two private eyes, countless calls to all nearby hospitals and police stations, and one missing persons report later, Alexia came one, hair cut short, a brightly colored peacock was freshly inked into her back, a thousand eyes seemed to be staring back at any who looked at the tail feathers. Orion tried to argue, yell and scream until his voice was hoarse and his throat raw but he couldn't. His wife was home and for once didn't look at their baby like she wanted to vomit at the sight of him.

                Two restaurants were shut down but Orion still had three more that were doing fine. Alexia hadn't left, or even shed a tear since she came back. Every month she seemed to be getting happier and happier, especially when she came back from the tattoo parlor, another peacock branded onto her tanned skin, more eyes that seemed to follow him around the room when he moved.

                When their son came home, a bright blue ribbon pinned to his chest and two teeth missing from his broad smile as he ran into the room Orion couldn't be happier. "I did it daddy, I did it! I won the race!" Orion was in court, an employee suing him for wrongful termination just because she happened to be marrying a woman. He hated having to miss spending anytime with his son, his pride and joy, but things started getting crazier at work and he was damned if he was going to be like his father, skipping work and letting the bills pile up leaving them with nothing at the end of the month.

                "I'm so sorry I missed it buddy. I promise I'll be at the next one."

                "You said that last time honey." Alexia walked into the room, nearly unrecognizable from the snobby high class woman she had been not seven years ago. Her whole left arm was a cascade of peacock feathers, each more brilliant then the last, shimmering in the light in a way that Orion didn't think possible from ink in skin. Each feather was covered by the next, except for the eye at the ends, deep purple and bright blue staring out at the world around her.

                "I know that but this time I don't care what happens I'll skip it." He turned his attention to the little seven year old in his arms. "Tell me all about it okay?" And for the next hour the child told the story, drifting from the actual race to describing the clouds and what juice he drank after.

                Four years later and Orion sat with a camera in his left hand and his arm wrapped around Alexia's waist as their son preformed moved after move, mirroring the instructor until he was handed an green belt to replace the orange one. He was taller now, just under his father's chin, hair as dark as night and his mother's tan skin, he was muscular for boy, easily beating boys three years his senior. He was a spitting image of his father at that age but the years were no longer treating Orion as well, he lost his bright smile with the third restaurant , his eyes grew dull and his hair gray as he suffer another lawsuit from a different employee.

                Another three years pass and their son was going into high school, almost automatically recruited onto the lacrosse, wrestling and fencing teams. Two more years and he was captain of the lacrosse team, ditched his saber for a long bow, and was almost a legend for his skills on the mat. His name was synonymous with greatness in locker rooms and the stands. Alexia was always nearby, whispering in his ear, conversations ending her husband walked in. A repossession, two more law suits, and an on the job accident that had every health inspector and wannabe food critic in the state flocking to his restaurant had kept him from spending time with his son,  with anyone other than his lawyer for that matter, and he hated himself for it but he had to keep his head up. His boy would understand when he had his own kid and saw all the good his father did.

                His son was scouted by no less than schools on his wrestling alone, never mind the full ride offers he got from nearly every school he wanted to attend. Despite his misgivings his son chose a small school across the country, he worked hard and in four years he had a degree and fiancé. If his son ever talked to him anymore he would've mentioned how he thought things where moving too fast, how could you really know someone having spent so little time with them, and how young they both were but sadly when his son called it was his wife's phone that rang. The only time he heard his son's voice was the recordings his wife took when he was off in court or at work, the young face that smiled at the camera asked where his father was less and less at each contest and game until the word dad wasn't even spoken any more.

                Alexia had left him. A note sprayed with perfume left on the bed, a stack of divorce papers and all the damned peacocks she decorated the house with was all that was left behind when she went, moving in with that bastard of a child who didn't even show up when Orion was hospitalized after his last restaurant burned to the ground. He had never known his grandchildren, wouldn't even know his daughter-in-laws name was Meg is his wretched wife hadn't stated so in her letter.

                Nothing since his son started high school was better than smashing each of those ugly figurines and slashing all the painted canvases had been as joyful. He took what little he had left out of the bank and left, a gas soaked rag around one of his wife's burning candles waiting to make sure the bank's got nothing. He checked into a sleazy motel, a string of prostitutes hailing traffic of the street not three blocks from the main strip of Vegas.  Bottles littered the floor as he drank until he passed out, covered in his own vomit. The next night he tired of drinking and stumbled down to the ladies, picking one that looked just like the bitch that left him, tan skin and brown hair a dress that hugged her curves.

                Her nose wrinkled when she walked in bottles rolling around the floor knocked them aside. "I'm going to need a lot more if I'm going to put up with this shit." She said coldly pulling her dress over her and revealing the small tattoo on her hip. Fifteen minutes later and she was dead, blood puddling under her as he panted above her, the neck of broken bottle in his hand. The cops found him like that kneeling in sticky blood above her, glass bottle still in hand but at work cutting the tattoo of peacock feather from her hip. Two shots and he was dead, just like his own father and whore under him.

                Alexia and her son didn't bother to bury him, letting the city cremate him and dispose of the ashes themselves. She was happy with her son and his family, graciously watching the kids whenever Meg wanted to go out for a date night or her son had some business dinner to go to. Both little boys loved trying to recreate their grandmothers tattoo's on paper, little roughly drawn peacock's covered the fridge, until Alastor's traded a crayon for a pencil and was able to draw his grandmother perfectly, tattoo's and all and Linus had long forgotten about drawing and was playing fantastic music with anything he could get his hands on.

                Alastor was a month away from graduating and Linus not far behind when Meg revealed she was pregnant. Alexia could not believe how happy he son looked at the news. That night she found him hunched over a note book, the smile gone from his face and he hastily scratched out numbers. Alexia stood by him all night whispering in his ear like she did when he was boy and his father was never around. The sun came up and shone through the blinds and for the first time her son knew what his father was talking about when he ranted about the tattoos looking at him. Light reflected off the ink like it was bouncing off water, the feathers shimmering as she moved to place a kiss on his forehead.

                "Don't worry child, I know you'll make the right decision." She said in a voice so cold and frightening it could chill a serial killer to the bone. With that she left, smiling as history was about to repeat itself once more, like a birthday present once an century. Alexia drove and drove and drove until the car ran out of gas and died on the highway, empty as the shell of the woman inside. While he eyes closed for the last time her tattoo's stood watch, seeing her son as clear as they had when she left, a thousand eyes trained on the one person she hated most.

                 Hercules sat in his office chair and stared at the painting his son had done, a regal woman standing alone in a field, a dress made of peacock feathers, a crown of gold on her head and frown on her face as she glowered down at him. Hera his son had told him once, the queen of the gods,  modeled after his grandmother who he loved so much.

                No matter how hard he tried, Hercules was never able to outshine his mother in his children's eyes. He did everything his father hadn't, went to every concert and exhibition, talked to them every day and tucked them in every night until they were old enough to ask him to stop and yet they treated her like she was goddess herself and he was just imposter, some dirty half breed of a thing that didn't deserve to breath the same air as they did. And his bitch of a wife suggesting they name their daughter after her. He was the one she married, _he_ was the one who gave them life and he was the one who was constantly disrespected.

                He knew what he had to do, the answer was so simple now. So one by one he went into the ending their lives as easily as he breathed, the only sound the pluck of a bow string and the closing of doors from his kids rooms. But his wife woke up, moved before he could release the arrow and screamed as it hit her arm pinning her to the bed. He ended soon after, a trail of red lines down his face when he got to close. Finally he went back to his office, tossing the bow on the table and stared up at that painting, stared at it just like his father did that tattoo until the police broke down the door and stormed through the house, stared at as the cuffed him, as they pulled him out of the room and Hera stood resolute in that field, a gown of peacock feathers, a crown of gold on her head and smile on her face.


End file.
